Lian held his head, his silky brown hair tangling around his fingers.
If that classmate spread even one rumor about him—
a rumor that turned out to be true—
it could destroy him completely.
He quickly pushed himself off the bed, grabbing his clothes and personal things.
The whole world was spinning.
He was scared, hurt, angry, and humiliated.
All he could think about was the man who had drunk his body like whiskey…
and then tossed the glass away without caring whether it cracked.
"That jerk raped me on purpose! Does he think I'll let him go after such injustice?!"
he hissed, golden-brown eyes wide and bloodshot from last night's alcohol.
His head pounded, and the bitter taste in his mouth worsened.
Then another bad feeling—
His mouth suddenly filled with acid.
Eyes widening, he stumbled into the washroom and collapsed in front of the high commode, vomiting everything he'd consumed.
Maybe it was stress.
Or the shock.
Or both.
His throat burned as he finished.
He forced himself upright.
His legs felt like jelly.
Splashing cold water on his pale face, he muttered,
"Not only him… this whole bar should be shut down."
He stepped out of the room.
The new day's customers, music, and the thick smell of wine filled the air.
He covered his mouth.
"Fucking place… and that fucking smell…"
he muttered, rolling his eyes.
His entire day ruined by one man—
and he was someone who rarely raised his voice or used harsh words.
He walked to the reception and slammed a hand on the counter.
The receptionist—busy polishing a glass—looked up.
"Yes, how can I help you, gentleman?"
Lian struggled with how to ask.
It wasn't like he came here regularly.
He cleared his throat.
"Do you… remember who bought the private chamber number twelve?"
Even saying the room number made his chest burn.
He might end up hating that number forever.
"Sorry, sir. I didn't see which woman went with you last night.
I work the day shift.
My coworker said the bill was already paid."
Lian's cheeks flushed.
A woman?
Damn it.
Whoever that man was, he must have been rich—rich enough to pay everything himself.
Almost like he was flaunting money rather than helping Lian.
Though honestly…
Lian didn't even have enough to pay the room fee.
"It— it was a man! A rich man and probably a real-life devil too!"
Lian blurted out louder than he meant to.
A few customers turned.
He immediately softened his expression, flashing an awkward, sweet smile.
"S-sorry for disturbing."
People looked away again, uninterested.
But the receptionist… froze.
"M… man… sir?" he whispered, eyes widening.
Lian realized he'd pushed too far—
the guy wasn't like the rich freaks who visited the bar.
"Hey— sorry. I got carried away," he said quickly.
He always reacted too much, even though he was soft-hearted from taking heavy medicine doses.
"Actually… some rich man took me into that room while I wasn't fully conscious and… you know…"
He pressed his lips together, ashamed.
The man wiped sweat from his forehead with a tissue.
"S-so, sir… you want to know who he was… right?"
Lian nodded.
"Yes. I need to know.
It wasn't just sex…"
He leaned closer as if sharing a secret.
"It was rape. A man raped another man in a public bar."
"Please don't tell the boss I revealed anything," the man whispered, worried.
"It's against the rules… but I feel really bad for you, sir. This bar never had such a case."
Lian inhaled slowly.
He understood the man's fear.
He was dealing with the same thing.
"Don't worry. Just give me his data.
I won't tell anyone about you."
"Since I work day shift, I can't access the CCTV… so, sir, can you give me your number?
I'll collect the footage at night and send it to you."
Lian's eyes softened.
At least he had one path to the truth.
"Alright."
He held out his hand.
The man handed over his phone, and Lian saved his contact as Lian Lanterns — his full name.
"Thank you," the man said.
Lian gave him his phone in return, and the man saved his own name:
Min Han.
Lian smiled faintly.
"So you're Korean. I wondered why your face looked a bit different.
Anyway… thank you for helping me."
Min Han bowed lightly—Korean manners—and smiled.
"Come again, sir. But… come with an angel next time.
Life is only one, you know."
Lian chuckled softly.
His mood lifted slightly.
"Pray for that day, then. I'll come if heaven blesses me," he said and walked away.
Min Han watched him go, thinking:
No human is easy to read.
But this man… he is stubbornly heart-warming.
Lian lived in a bachelor hostel—
or more accurately, he survived in one—
while studying medical science in Beijing.
He earned his own money, paid his bills, covered college fees,
and still sent a large portion home to his single mother.
So his house…
looked just like his pocket:
tiny, and barely filled.
"You didn't pick up your phone, and now your parrot mother is eating my head and my balance.
Call her right now and tell her you're home,"
Sam said, annoyed, arms crossed.
"I will, I will— just let me get fresh first," Lian replied, heading toward the bathroom.
A pillow suddenly hit his back.
He winced as his head rang like a bell.
"Ah— Sam! What now?!"
"You never told me you're BI," Sam muttered like a curse.
"Sleeping around with men… doing unholy things…
and my teammate tells me that about my best friend and roommate?!"
Lian's cheeks burned—
his brain fogging again.
He threw the pillow back.
"I'm NOT BI, and I wasn't sleeping around!
That guy raped me and I'm taking revenge no matter what!"
"Raped?!" Sam shouted.
"I told you not to go drinking at night!
You don't know how dangerous Beijing can be!"
"I'm not a girl for you to instruct me!" Lian snapped.
"But you got raped like a girl, didn't you?" Sam shot back, stepping closer.
Lian felt his remaining ego crack.
He hated being called a girl.
"Sam Lavodor," he hissed,
"You're crossing the line. I'm not in the mood for your nonsense."
But Sam didn't stop.
"You know how big the problem will be if that rich freak took pictures?
He can ruin your entire future with just one 'send' button!"
Lian froze.
His skin turned cold.
Oh no.
What if that man really did take pictures?
He even said he'd come back…
Of course he might have.